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Subject: {ASSM} [deirdre Fest - Muse] "Sucker" by Vickie Tern, 2/13, TG, Femdom, humiliation, W
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[Posted on behalf of Vickie Tern; e-mail address at the end of story.  -- 
pleasecain]

{ASSM}Deirdre Homage (Muse). "Sucker" by Vickie Tern, TG, Femdom,
humiliation, Wife, F/M M/M. 


                               ii.

I pressed "pause," and turned to ask Debbie whether she saw her
favorite man anywhere about.  Without a word she got up abruptly
and went into the kitchen.  She came back with two bananas.

"Here," she said.  "Practice what you preach!"

Now I was puzzled.  "Why a banana for me?  This tape is for girls. 


"Not necessarily."  Then she relented a little.  "It was
recommended to me by my office manager, Bruce.  He's ... you know. 
He's different, if you know what I mean.  We all talk to him as if
he were one of us, all the girls in our office.  He knows lots
about how to make men more ... responsive.  What's attractive. 
What attracts.  We're always curious whether men like Bruce feel
the way women do about ... some things."  She paused, then
continued.  "I mentioned my fingers and toes, how I wished
sometimes you were a little more ... venturesome, and so on.  He
thought a tape teaching more about oral sex might help."

"You talk about our private things at the office, Debbie?  And ask
a gay man for advice?"

"Sam, it's Bruce, not just anyone!  Women feel comfortable
confiding in him!  He never takes advantage of what he knows, so it
doesn't matter what he knows!  And he doesn't gossip -- who'd pay
attention to him?  And he has the cutest dates calling on him after
work, sometimes!  Sometimes we're all a little jealous!"

I didn't like hearing that.  Jealous of Bruce?  Debbie and the
other girls at her office size up the men who come through as
possible...partners?  Even gay men calling on a gay man?  I didn't
say anything, but I must have looked a little solemn.  Worried.

"I don't mean jealous of Bruce, honey.  I mean we envy the way his
dates look.  All prettied up for their night out on the town.  Some
of them are just gorgeous, and dressed beautifully too!  Designer
dresses, he likes that, and they all have the figures they need to
carry them off!"

"Bruce's dates?  Gorgeous?  Beautiful?  And he's gay?  They're men,
aren't they?"

"I suppose.  Some may be, technically.  Bruce says lots of men
think they're really women, so they take hormones and get the
surgery they need to become women.  And while they're at it, the
surgery they also need to become beautiful.  Lots don't, they just
work at being beautiful the way women do.  Whether they're then
women or men is all in the eye of the beholder.  Bruce likes them
that way.  His friends all look like women when they come to call
on him.  "

"Your Bruce likes guys who look like girls?"

"He likes girls who were once guys, honey, for sure!  And the girls
who visit him like his kind of man, too.  We all do.  He's
something!  A real man.  Lean and graceful, but with solid, hard
muscles, like a dancer.  Handsome, chiseled face, high cheekbones,
deep eyes.  Very dramatic!  He did dance professionally for a while
before he got his M.B.A.  Why do you ask?"

"No reason.  Just trying to understand."  The way she'd described
Bruce was disturbing me.  She sounded ready to go to bed with him
even though he was gay.  Debbie must have sensed it.

"Understand what, honey?  Does it matter to you?  Do you have some
special feeling about effeminate men I don't know about?  Would
you like to date him too?  A handsome, hard-bodied man?  Does the 
idea that some men look like gorgeous women give you a
funny feeling inside?  Do you secretly envy them?  We were talking
about how nice it is to suck cock.  Do you ever wonder what
a pretty man's cock might feel like, say, in your own mouth?  Or a
handsome man's, pushed into you maybe somewhere even more private? 
Do you have strange feelings about all this you don't want to admit
to me, maybe?  Maybe not even to yourself?"

There was that sarcasm again.  I was already losing round two,
and I hadn't even left my corner.  I said nothing.  Then, "This
tape teaches the wrong kind of sucking, Debbie.  It's your Bruce's
kind of sucking.  Cock sucking!  That's what gay men do with each
other.  And girls do with men.  Real men don't suck cock or dress
up to look like girls.  That's all I meant!"

"That's what you think you meant!  I heard something else!  No more
discussion!  You said before that you'd suck on anything I'd care
to name!  Well, right now I'm naming a banana!  Is that too much
for you to handle?" 

"No," I said, trying now to be conciliatory.  "Of course I'll suck
on your banana!"

She saw that I was trying to appease her, and she tried to
appreciate it.  "That's my dear!  Let's just watch some more of the
tape, shall we?  Maybe we'll both learn a few things!"

Again, faint hope rose up in my heart from that remark.  Maybe she
would change her mind about blowing me?  Maybe this mis-chosen tape
would prove a godsend?  I looked at the way she was holding her
banana.  Cradling it in both hands.  Caressing it with her
fingertips!  A woman's fingertips, long, slender, manicured in deep
red.  Grasping her phallic banana at the base with one hand, and
stroking its underside absent-mindedly with the other.  Again I
found I was rock hard!  I pressed "play."

There was Stacy again, still wearing full lips and babydolls, but
this time seen from the rear on her knees, facing a different man
seated on a plain chair.  Another man with an incredible endowment
-- his erection rose from his crotch higher than two bananas
planted end to end!  Or so it seemed.  Stacy looked over her
shoulder, seemed to notice us watching, smiled, and then lifted
her ass and waved 'Hi!' at us with it, swishing its exposed round
cheeks.  My prick lurched.

The dark-haired girl's voice again addressed us.  "Now, we're going
to take this topic up one part at a time, and then put all the
parts together.  The lessons are first, how to hold a man's cock. 
Then how to kiss it.  Then in quick succession, because we're all
eager to get down to it, aren't we, how to lick it, suck it, slide
lips up and down on it, and then as a special treat how to deep
throat it.  Finally, cum-swallowing.  Then, girls, you're on your
own.  But if you'd like to know even more, there are all sorts of
"Special Project" lessons included on this tape for afterward, and
you can watch them at your leisure.  Meanwhile just listen and
watch closely while Stacy demonstrates everything I describe.
Ready?"

I glanced at Debbie, and saw that she was looking at me.  Strictly
speaking, at my banana, which I was holding at my side in one hand
like, well, like a banana.  While she was cradling hers like some
precious, fragile thing to be cherished.  Her eyes flicked up to
mine, and I saw she was rebuking me.  I quickly held my banana in
front of me like hers, like a baby, in both hands.  Satisfied, her
eyes returned to the screen.

"As we all already know I'm sure, guys come in many different
sizes.  Some are weenies.  Most are only average, but that's OK,
some girls are satisfied with only average, maybe they have a
problem of self-esteem, or maybe the man's good with what he's got. 
Chuck as you can see is not average!  His is a prize-winner -- more
than two hands tall!  So Stacy has begun by grasping it gently but
firmly at its base with one hand, and inclining it to a more
comfortable angle for her mouth with her other."

A close-up followed of Stacy's long fingers with their long red
manicured nails doing just that.  Like Debbie's.  I grasped my
banana by the base and bent it toward me, and looked again at
Debbie.  I sensed that she'd just checked to see if I was now being
dutiful and minding my lessons, but her eyes were on the screen,
and she was holding her banana exactly the way Stacy was holding
Chuck's cock, feminine delicacy implied by her little finger held
apart from the rest, just a bit, as if cocks and bananas were tea
cups.  I did the same thing.

"Even when it's swollen and erect, a penis's skin is loose.  Lift
and lower the skin down at the base so it slides a little on the
cock shaft as you grasp it.  Pump it a few times.  Then take hold
of the cock with your right hand too, and lift and lower the skin
there.  Then with both hands together.  Do this a few times.  Men
call what you're doing jerking off, but be languorous about it,
girls.  Real slow.  He'll appreciate it later that you were in no
hurry.  And it'll give him more time to surrender his body and his
desires to you for the rest of the session.  That's what you want. 
To melt his brain into his cock so he becomes putty in your hands. 
You know the old rule -- make them want you, then decide later
whether you want them."

Stacy was pulling on Chuck with a tantalizing slowness, and Chuck
was already lost in his bliss.  I have never envied anyone as much
as I envied Chuck at that moment.

"If you're using a dildo or banana as a cock, pump with your right
hand while the other steadies it.  If you've got both hands full of
a man, especially a man with a prick like Chuck's, count your
blessings.  And use the hand lotion or some other mild lubricant to
give your hand a slick feeling."

I was now holding my banana like a flagpole on top of my own
pent-up, raging prick.  Stacy poured pink lotion onto her palms
from a pink plastic bottle and then rubbed them together
vigorously, like some ditch digger who'd spits on them before
picking up his shovel.  Then with sinuous, deft movements of those
marvelous slim hands and fingers she spread the rest of the lotion
onto the backs and wrists of both her hands.  Debbie handed me an
identical pink plastic bottle.  It smelled of flowers -- her usual
skin lotion.  She watched me.  I set the banana down for a moment
and spread the lotion onto my own hands and wrists with a close
imitation, I thought, of Stacy's seductive dexterity.  Then cupped
them and sniffed deeply.  Now my hand also smelled of flowers, and
it was like sniffing Debbie herself!  Debbie smiled encouragingly
and turned back to the screen.  Slowly, with softened hands, like
the blonde in the video, I masturbated my banana.

Our weather girl's voice returned.  "Now bend over and kiss the
tip, girls.  Delicately."  That's just what Stacy did to Chuck. 
"Then again.  Lick off any drops of pre-cum.  Now kiss the edge of
the crown, and lick that.  You're driving him wild, darlings!"  

What Stacy was doing to Chuck was driving me wild too, but I didn't
dare reach for my own dong, which was performing a full court press
in my pants, trapped, weeping in frustration.  Instead, I bent to
my own kissing and licking after a quick glimpse at Debbie doing
the same.  She looked so sexy!  Why wouldn't she do me that way!? 
Her eyes rose to meet mine with an almost sisterly affection, as if
we were two girls double-dating two bananas.  I turned my attention
entirely to my man of the hour, Mr. Banana, and I kissed and licked
him passionately, devotedly.

"Make him wait before you take him into your mouth.  Make him a
little crazy!  Now kiss and lick his cock along its whole length,
bottom to peak.  Especially on the underside, girls.  It's
extremely sensitive.  Take your time.  But don't forget to keep
pumping the base with your hands!  A few gentle squeezes now and
then will help too.  So he can't possibly guess what you'll take it
into your pretty little head to do next.  Then he'll be so grateful
when you actually do take it into your pretty little head!"  

That's exactly what my pretty little head did.  I looked over for
a moment, and saw that Debbie had stopped with her banana
altogether, and was just watching me.  She looked pleased, not at
all angry.

"No fair!" I said to her in between licks and kisses.  "You have to
do this too!  It was your idea!"

"Yes it was," she replied.  "You look so sexy right now, honey!  So
very dear!  But may I make a suggestion?  You're nowhere near
gentle enough.  Maybe you're feeling too passionate?  Try to be
more ladylike!  Daintier!  Maybe peel back the banana so your
imitation cock will be a lot more fragile?  Then you'll respect the
delicacy of what you're doing!  "

She's the expert?  I did that, and found that from then on I did
indeed have to be extremely careful not to bite or break it.  The
video instructor explained how the ridge below the crown of a penis
provides a natural seal for the lips for sucking, and added that it
isn't the sucking that brings a man off, it's the vacuum sealed
pressure of a woman's lips sliding up and down on an erect penis,
lubricated by her saliva, slippery and yet sweet, snug as a
virgin's pussy.  She discussed how to open the back of your throat,
and advised novices how to practice defeating the gag reflex so a
man can literally feel your throat swallowing him.  

She informed us that a male orgasm produces usually less than two
teaspoons of cum, but he can squirt it as far as six feet.  "Men
love to think it's gallons, and they love for us to swallow it
all," the voice informed us confidentially. "So do try!  If your
man is healthy it's a nourishing source of protein, a little sweet,
a little salty, slick on the tongue like tapioca or an egg white,
lightly flavored sometimes by whatever he's eaten recently.  You'll
have plenty of time to get accustomed to his distinctive flavor
while you seduce him, because if you've done your cock sucking right,
he's been leaking pre-cum from his cock-tip all along.  He can't
help but.  The poor dear!"

I tried diligently to do everything she advised.  It was quite a
repertory.  Stacy demonstrated different lip, tongue, head, and
hand movements, ways to play a man the way musicians play their
instruments.  Then she began freely improvising her melodies.
Riffing!  It was an art form!

My naked banana was ready to climax, I was sure, when I heard our
instructor say, "If you aren't blowing a real man right now, girls,
you'll want to taste your reward anyhow.  So while Stacy's bringing
Chuck to the edge, go get a gravy baster and fill it with the
whites of a raw egg.  Then squeeze the bulb into your mouth to
simulate the ejaculations of a live cock finally gone wild and
spewing cum for all it's worth!  That's every girl's reward, the
evidence of things hoped for." 

I looked up.  There was Debbie standing over me and my banana,
holding a gravy baster erect in front of my face with an almost
triumphant look!  She really was getting off on this!  I couldn't
disappoint her!  Like a starved whore I abandoned my banana, lunged
at the gravy baster pointed straight at my mouth, and began to
nurse on it frantically.  I slid my lips back and forth over the
narrow tip, up and down, while Debbie held it in position against
her crotch as if it were her penis. I was vaguely thinking that
size does matter, that bananas are really fatter, better endowed,
more satisfying in the mouth than gravy basters.  But just then the
gravy baster rewarded me by pumping something warm, salty, and
slick into my mouth.  The warmth puzzled me -- I knew that we keep
our eggs refrigerated.  A faint fishy flavor puzzled me too.  But
then this whole previously prepared gravy baster puzzled me.  Had
Debbie seen this tape before?  She must have.  Why show it to me? 
She did intend to do me, somehow, but I had to leap some hurdles
first?

I closed my eyes to concentrate on swallowing the viscous stuff --
all at once seemed the only way.  I gulped several times, but still
felt it coating my mouth and tongue.  It stayed there, a film over
everything that even my own saliva couldn't penetrate!  It didn't
let you forget!  "Congratulations, girls!  Now you've sucked cock!" 
the voice on the tube concluded.  "This ends our demonstration of
the essentials.  You are now capable cock suckers, and your men
will love you for it.  But to learn more advanced techniques,
continue watching!"  I opened my eyes just in time to see Stacy
lifting her mouth up off the hair at the base of Chuck's prick. 
She'd deep throated that whole tower!  That tool of his kept
leaving her mouth, on and on -- it seemed to take forever until
finally the peak passed out from between her lips.  Had Chuck cum
directly into Stacy's stomach?  Was his dong two feet long? 
Longer?  How did that cute girl ever learn to swallow a thing like
that? 

There were more advisory lessons further along, our guide reminded
us, detailed re-examinations of the fundamentals and quite a few
ingenious tricks of the trade.  But we might just as well view them
another time, I thought.  I stopped the video -- my banana had
gotten mangled anyhow by my repeated failed attempts to deep throat
it.  The idea that Debbie was at last interested in oral sex
excited me.  But sucking on a banana was not my idea of an
educational evening, nor an entertaining one either when I'd been
away for three weeks.  Maybe Debbie would look at the rest of the
tape by herself, and maybe be persuaded by it?  She seemed
preoccupied.  Had the video finally turned her on?  I asked her
that question.

"No," she replied seriously.  "What turned me on was the sight of
my own husband's lips sliding up and down on that banana.  You did
seem to be enjoying it, honey.  If a job is worth doing, it's worth
doing well, is that how you felt?  Or were you really beginning to
get turned on?  I hope so.  When you were bestowing those little
nibbling kisses on the tip I felt very strange inside.  Very
excited, just as I'd hoped I would be.  That was unforgettable. 
You did seem to be deeply in love with that banana!  Next time I
want you to have a manicure like mine to wrap around the thing, and
wear some lipstick to enhance the effect.  I'll love seeing that!
Promise!   Did you enjoy sucking off that banana?  Please say yes!"

This wasn't the excitement I'd hoped to find, but it was something,
maybe something I could work with.  "Sure, whatever -- it was OK,"
I said.  No more answer was needed than that.  She sounded serious,
but I figured she was still teasing me.  At least she wasn't being
sardonic, nor disgusted.  She seemed more intrigued by my newly
discovered talent.  "What do you mean, next time?"

She took a deep breath.  "Well, I have to tell you, Sam, and I
realize people can differ on this.  I loved watching you do it.
Even though I've always thought the whole thing was little
demeaning for a woman, insulting even.  Asking a woman to bow
down to worship the almighty male phallus?  It's humiliating! 
That's why whenever you've asked me to lower myself that way, to
submit myself to you, I get angry and answer 'No way!'  And tonight
when you were asking me again all I could think was 'Oh?  You want
that?  You first!  You do it!'  And you did it!  I loved watching you
doing it.  It's obviously a man's thing.  A kind of phallic
self-celebration.  A vision of a man honoring the symbol of his own
manliness.  I found it strangely exciting!"

"Honey," I had to reply.  "You miss the point.  It's an act of
affection.  It's meant to make someone feel good.  It's not in the
least humiliating, I shouldn't think!"

"That's what I'm saying!  Why don't men do their friends?  Make
them feel good, if it's like a good-natured slap on the back?"

I paid scant attention.  "For men it's demeaning, Debbie. 
Submission to another man.  But you heard that woman say that for
women it isn't submissive at all, rather the reverse.  Good oral
sex can reduce a man to a gibbering simpleton who will agree to
anything a woman wants.  Its a way for a woman to control him, even
dominate him."  Maybe that argument will work, I was thinking.

"That's what you want?  For me to control you?  Dominate you?"

I had to choose my answer carefully, or I'd also lose round three! 
"For you to persuade me to please you in any way I can, yes, by
trying to please me.  Yes, I'd love that!  And I'd want to please
you too, Debbie.  I really would!"

"That's the kind of relationship we've got?  That's what love is? 
A tradeoff?  Tit for tat?  No tit, no tat?"

"Debbie, that's not what I said!"

"It's what I heard."  She was silent for a long moment.  I was
about to suggest again that we just get to bed and try to please
each other in our customary  old fashioned ways -- I was desperate
for any kind of sex after three weeks away and alone.  For
affection.  Just for acceptance!  Then suddenly she seemed to come
to a decision.  "Let's be reasonable, Sam.  Put down that banana,
or else eat it and let's talk."

"All right."  Outwardly I was calm, but now inwardly wild with
hope!  Was it possible that this very night my wife meant finally
to favor me with her virgin mouth?!  Finally?   

She settled in.  "Now let me understand this.  You want me to do
something I think of as unnatural, distasteful, demeaning, even a
little perverse, because it would please you.  Is that right?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way about it.  But essentially, yes.  I'm
not insisting, mind."

"I appreciate that, honey.  So neither am I."

"Neither are you what?  Insisting on what?"

"Insisting that you do it first.  Something you'd think of as
unnatural, distasteful, and even a little perverse.  To show your
good faith.  So you'll fully appreciate what my pleasing you could
be costing me.  To show me even before I attempt it that you've
been there and done that, and survived it, maybe even enjoyed it! 
Isn't that a principle of male leadership?  Never ask anyone to do
anything you haven't done first and done better?"

"Done what, Debbie?"  It was getting late, and I was getting too
tired and addled for these mind games.

"What you want me to do.  Suck cock!"

"You mean I should go down on myself?  I told you, I can't!  I
don't bend far enough!"

"But you did tell me you would if you could!"

"I said that, yes."  And I'd regretted it instantly!  

"So why not do it to a cock you can reach?"

"Where's that, baby?"  

"Why not do some other man's cock?"

"What?!" 

She continued in a straightforward, reasonable tone of voice. 
"That seems only fair.  And I'll give you good odds!  Here's what
I'm thinking.  You suck on another man's cock.  All the way.  Bring
him off at least once, to show your good faith, maybe more if you
feel like it to prove to me it's enjoyable.  Then I'll suck on
yours whenever you want, for all the rest of our married lives. 
But you first!  Because I need to know that you've overcome the
same distaste I've got at the prospect of it.  That you understand
how I feel!  That you've overcome that distaste in order to please
me!  As an act of love.  That you've set an example for me to
admire and try to emulate!"  

She smiled encouragingly at me.

I stared back.  Had that video driven her mad?  I tried to reach
her.  "Honey, for openers think of the humiliation!  Men don't give
sexual pleasure to other men.  Not unless they're gay.  Why do you
want me to...?"

"You just said it wasn't in the least humiliating, that to do it is
an act of affection!  Where's your affection for me?  And besides,
you promised me you would.  You said you'd suck anything I'd care
to name.  I named a banana and you did that job beautifully.  Now
I'm naming something else.  Another man's cock."  

She really meant it!  She was serious!

"You're always telling me you're a man of your word, that's why all
your clients trust you!"

That was true.  I valued my word.  What was it I'd promised her?

"So be a man of your word!  But even more, be a leader!  Here's
your opportunity to lead the way!  You do it, maybe I'll watch, and
who knows, maybe I'll even pick up a few pointers.  But certainly,
then I'll feel obliged to do it for you."   

She nodded, affirming that she agreed with what she'd just heard
herself say.  I just stared.

"It's that simple.  You lead, I'll follow.  You do it as payment in
advance, or as a sacrificial act, or to set the right example, or
out of curiosity, whatever reasons you think adequate, and I'll do
it for you.  In gratitude, out of renewed devotion to you.  Who
knows, maybe I'll get to like the feel of a man's cock in my mouth
-- lots of girls do.  Maybe you'll get to like the feel too.  I saw
you with that banana."  

I still couldn't say anything!  

She went into her closing argument.  The one that cinches a deal
and gets a customer to sign.  I was reminded that she's a
successful real estate saleswoman.  "Think about it, Sam!  Think
about what it costs you, and what it gets you!  Only maybe fifteen
minutes of a little discomfort, a half hour at most, out of a whole
lifetime.  It can't be that unpleasant -- the video certainly
doesn't think so, and you've never implied to me that it might be. 
You do that and you can get in return weeks and months and years of
blow jobs if you want them.  Weeks and months of my mouth wrapped
snug around your prick and slipping up and down on it.  Weeks of
you feeling exalted while your loving wife gives you head.  All for
giving me fifteen minutes of your time.  Showing me the way. 
Fifteen minutes you might not much enjoy, but then again you just
might.  Stacy certainly does!  Less than fifteen minutes if you can
get into it and bring him off quickly."  

She waited for my reaction.  I tried to speak, but only splutters
came out.  Was that a faintly amused smile at the edge of her lips? 
"Hello?" she called out to me.

"Debbie," I finally managed to say.  "You don't mean it!"

"Do you mean it when you say you want me to go down on you?  When
you imply that I don't love you because I won't go down on you?"

"I've never said that!  Never!"  But saying it that way only seemed
to confirm for her that I'd felt it.  She merely nodded, her
suspicion confirmed, a glint of anger now suddenly visible in her
eyes. 

She stood up abruptly.  "Think about it, Sam.  That's the deal. 
You do what you must.  I'm going to bed!"  And the next second she
was gone.  Nowhere in the room.  A second after that I heard our
bedroom door slam shut.  I was familiar with that sequence -- many
of our quarrels ended that way.  When I came in she'd be asleep. 
There'd be no lovemaking between us!  I wouldn't dare wake her. 
She was now unapproachable.

(End Part 2/13)
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